Harry Potter and the Spell of Typhaon
by NoelleWeasley
Summary: As the search begins for Voldemort's Horcruxes, an ancient myth is uncovered that could hold the key to the final defeat of Voldemort. Spoilers through HPB,mild RH, HG, LT. WIP
1. Finding a Bit of Peace

Chapter 1

Finding a Bit of Peace

Harry Potter watched as the clock on his nightstand changed from 11:59 to midnight. He was now officially seventeen. He sincerely hoped that seventeen would turn out to be a better age than the previous few, but Harry knew better than to keep his hopes up. Harry had been here, at the Dursleys, since the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The train ride back to London after Dumbledore's funeral was an odd one. Harry had always thought that his last trip on the Hogwarts Express would be a celebration, a time of remember-whens. Instead it was a silent, morose journey. Himself, Hermione, Ron and Neville had sequestered themselves in a compartment together and had ridden home mainly in silence, lost in their own dark thoughts. He hadn't seen Ginny since walking away from her at the funeral. He wondered how she was taking everything. He wondered if he was doing the right thing. In short, he brooded, because brooding is what Harry does best.

The ride from the station to the Dursleys home was even more silent, if that was possible. The Dursleys didn't seem to know how to react to the new Harry they had picked up at the station. A determined, if glum, man had replaced the sullen angry youth they had last seen. Harry hadn't spoken to them much in the intervening weeks.

An owl then flew in his window, interrupting his musings. It was a sleek, small grey owl Harry didn't recognize. She hooted imperiously and Harry cautiously took the letter tied to her leg. Unrolling the letter, Harry began to read.

_Monsieur Philippe Delacour and his wife, Bianca Fairfax Delacour wish to extend an invitation to the upcoming nuptials of their daughter, Fleur Titania Delacour to William Arthur Weasley. _

The invitation continued on, in much the same vein, at great length, but Harry already knew the details and read no further. Harry was greatly looking forward to this wedding. He looked upon it as one last carefree day before the war broke in earnest. He hoped he wouldn't be disappointed. Lost in his thoughts, Harry finally drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Harry awakened before the rest of the Dursley household, as per usual. A ghost of a smile, the first one in weeks, crossed his features. Today, he thought, Today I might just have a bit of fun.

* * *

Petunia Dursley awoke to a delicious smell wafting from the kitchen below, and quickly pulled on her robe to rush downstairs and investigate. When she arrived in the kitchen, she froze, stunned. Harry was standing in the middle of the kitchen with…that Thing in his hand, waving it madly. Pancakes were flipping themselves, eggs were scrambling, coffee was pouring itself from the pot into mugs, and worst of all, the table settings were floating lazily into the dining room table and setting themselves. Petunia found herself unable to form words and could only squawk with rage. Harry seemed not to notice her anger. 

"Good Morning Aunt Petunia!" He called cheerfully "Sit down, have some breakfast. The eggs are nearly ready. Scrambled, just the way you like them!"

Petunia could only open and shut her mouth wordlessly and thank the heavens above that Vernon and Dudley were late risers. Harry finished the cooking and dishes began to make their way onto the table to join the silverware.

"What are you waiting for Aunt Petunia? Your eggs will get cold."

Petunia finally stammered out a response "But…you cant….Expelled….what?"

"Oh, that. The decree for underage sorcery. Right. Well that hardly applies anymore, now does it?" Considering the matter settled Harry began to apply himself to the task of consuming breakfast.

Petunia suddenly felt like all of her worst nightmares were coming true. The only thing that could make matters worse…

"Good Morning dear." Vernon arrived, pressed a kiss to her cheek and settled himself down at the table. "Everything looks lovely this morning." Vernon ignored Harry, as was the custom this summer, and began filling his plate.

Petunia couldn't decide which was worse; telling Vernon he was about to consume a meal made by magic, or actually allowing him to consume it. The decision was taken out of her hands, however when Harry casually pulled out his wand and offered to warm Vernon's plate. He seemed terribly concerned that the pancakes might have gotten cold. Vernon's rage was palpable.

"BOY! I will have none of that unnaturalness in my household!" he bellowed, turning a marvelous shade of magenta. "You put that-that THING away immediately!"

Harry merely gazed at Vernon for a moment, then tucked his wand away. "Suit yourself."

This only served to infuriate Vernon more. "And I will have none of that…that….Agggh!" Vernon raised a hand to strike Harry, but was marginally too slow.

"Petrifucus Totalus"

And with that, Vernon froze where he was. Harry, meanwhile, stood up, wiped his mouth with a napkin and turned to Petunia.

"I think I'll be going now. Thanks for everything." He turned to leave, paused and faced Petunia once more "Oh, by the way, the curse should wear off on its own. Eventually." Harry then walked up the stairs, leaving her gaping in the dining room. A few seconds later, Petunia heard a small "Pop!" from the direction of Dudley's second bedroom. She rushed up the stairs, threw open his door, and saw…nothing. At that moment, the door to Dudley's bedroom opened, and his sleep tousled head poked out.

"Mum, what's going on?" He asked sleepily.

Petunia's mouth opened and closed a few times. Had anyone besides Dudley been in the hall to see her, they would have been strongly reminded of a goldfish. Fortunately for Petunia, however, there was not. Petunia finally regained composure to reply:

"Nothing, Duddykins. You just go right back to sleep. You're my growing boy and you need plenty of rest." She tucked her precious baby boy back into bed, unable to deny the feeling that a huge weight had been lifted off her bony shoulders.

* * *

Harry smiled to himself as he gathered his trunk and Hedwig's cage. He knew he was leaving the Dursleys residence for the last time, and he couldn't be gladder about that fact.

* * *

With a quiet "Pop!" Harry appeared in the drawing room at 12 Grimmauld Place. He looked around the room with some trepidation, but was pleased to discover the changes wrought there. No longer dank and gloomy, the room had been repainted. The Slytherin snakes that had covered every available surface were gone and the room appeared uncluttered and cheerful. He hoped the rest of the house had similar changes. Perhaps this would help to relieve him of some of the memories associated with Headquarters. Leaving the drawing room behind, Harry continued on to the kitchen, where he was to meet with Professor McGonagall. 

Shortly before his birthday, the professor had shown up at 4 Privet Dr. to take him for his apparation exam. While he was not legally allowed to apparate until his birthday, it had been arranged for him to take the exam early. All parties involved felt that Voldemort and his cronies would be expecting him to show up at the Ministry for the exam on his birthday, and that this should be avoided. It was on that day the two of them set up this appointment.

When Harry entered the kitchen, he found McGonagall waiting there for him at the table. A tea service and biscuits were waiting there for him also. Not one to indulge in small talk, the professor immediately got down to business.

"Harry," she began "I know that it is your intention not to return to Hogwarts this year, but instead to begin your search for the Horcruxes immediately. I also am aware that if I try to dissuade you from this task, I would fail miserably. Please know that I have no intention of any attempt to convince you to put off this task. But I do believe that you should return to school for you final year."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Professor McGonagall was a step ahead of him.

"If you and your friends, for I know that where you go, Ron and Hermione will follow, do not return to Hogwarts this coming year, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…"

"Call him Voldemort." Harry interrupted "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

McGonagall looked at him questioningly.

"Professor Dumbledore used to say that." Harry replied flatly.

"Oh. Well." She paused for a moment, her eyes suspiciously bright, before continuing "V..Voldemort will know that something is happening if you do not return to Hogwarts. We do not, under any circumstances, wish for him to become aware of your hunt. I have no doubt that he will send spies into my school this upcoming year, and I have no wish for them to have any news to report to their master."

Professor McGonagall began to outline her plan to him, stopping any further interruptions before they had begun. She had planned her case well, knowing Harry's objections almost before he made them. Her idea was to have the trio return, basically as token students. They would be taking very few classes, all with professors that were trusted by them both. A story about Hermione's very sick mother was to be planted to excuse the many absences that they would rack up. This would cover the boys also, for Hermione could hardly be expected to venture out un-escorted in these times of danger, now could she? Not to mention the emotional support she would need, for her mother was so very sick with some complex muggle disease with no known cure. Also, the feverish research, unconnected to their schoolwork, that Hermione would undoubtedly be doing that year, could be explained as "searching for a cure." Harry quickly found himself agreeing to "at least, think it over,"

McGonagall had one last parting shot for him. "Don't forget also, that Hermione would be able to take her newts in any subject she pleased if she were a student at Hogwarts. The examiners do not require for a student to actually be taking a particular subject for them to be allowed to sit the test. Oh, and do have a Happy Birthday Harry." And with that, she departed.

Harry knew how important the newts were to Hermione. He was also surprised that she hadn't pressed him to make his decision immediately. He then realized what a brilliant witch McGonagall was. He had been played like a game of poker. But somehow it didn't leave Harry feeling manipulated. She had left the decision in his hands. The fact that she knew what choice he would make was somehow irrelevant. That last comment about Hermione and her precious tests had only sealed the deal for him, and McGonagall knew it. That guilt card, her trump, was played handily and was well timed. All said, Harry could only chuckle at how well his Head of House knew him.

* * *

Harry had just finished unpacking his trunk upstairs in his room when he heard a thump from downstairs. Wand in hand, he snuck down to the drawing room. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he slowly turned the corner, and entered the room. His view was immediately obstructed by a vast quantity of brown, bushy hair. 

"Harry!" Shrieked Hermione, launching herself at him. "Happy Birthday!" Harry gingerly hugged his best friend back with one arm, attempting to smooth her hair down, out of his eyes. Accomplishing this goal, he looked over the top of her head (when had that happened?) to see his other best friend grinning at him from a few feet away.

"Happy birthday mate." Ron grinned crookedly at him. "Good to see you." Harry disentangled himself from Hermione and walked over to Ron, thumping him on the back.

"I've something I need to talk to you about." Harry began hesitantly. Glancing at each other nervously, Ron and Hermione took seats on the new drawing room couch. "How would you guys feel about returning to Hogwarts next year?"

He was immediately interrupted by two indignant voices.

"You can't ditch us now mate, you're stuck…"

"Harry James Potter! You know right well…"

Harry quickly interrupted. "That's not what I meant. I'd be going back with you."

That stopped them in their tracks.

"But, Harry…" began Hermione hesitantly. "What about the Horcruxes?"

"Oh I don't intend to give that up either. Listen" Harry quickly told the two of them everything McGonagall said, with one exception. He refrained from mentioning her parting comment about Hermione and her NEWTs. As he finished, he found himself suddenly fending off bushy hair for the second time that day.

"Do you know what this means Harry?" Hermione was positively glowing. "This means we can still take our NEWTS!"

"Actually, it means that you two can take your NEWTs." Harry replied "Somehow I don't think I'll have time for a distraction like that."

"I'm not taking them either." Ron interjected. "Harry and I won't need them, Hermione." Hermione looked slightly crestfallen at this, but quickly brightened up.

"After all," She said, "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement can hardly turn down two Auror applicants who have defeated Voldemort." Ron perked up as well.

"Yeah! It won't matter that I didn't get into Potions." Harry chuckled at his friends' new enthusiasm.

"Speaking of Potions," Harry interjected "We need to figure out what classes to take next year. Definitely Transfiguration. McGonagall will excuse any assignments we don't finish while we are away from Hogwarts."

"Brilliant!" Ron cheered up even more, if possible. "What about Defense?"

"Ron!" Hermione jumped in "We don't even know who is teaching Defense this year. Three of our past professors have been working for Voldemort" Ron shuddered at the name "Honestly Ron. We certainly should not sign up for Defense and simply hope that the professor is trustworthy!"

"Hermione, I'm hurt." A new voice interjected "Not trust moi?" The three turned around to see that Tonks had entered the room unknown to them.

Three voices spoke up at once

"You're the Defense professor! Brilliant!"

"Doesn't the Ministry need you to remain on active duty? I thought they were short on Aurors…"

"Tonks! How did you get in here without us hearing!"

Tonks laughed and attempted to respond to all three at once. "Wotcher. Long story guys. Basically, since I can't morph or apparate for the next seven months I was taken off active duty. Once Kingsley got wind that you two" At this, she nodded at Ron and Harry, "wanted to become Aurors, he demanded that I go straight to McGonagall and request the Defense post so I could, and I quote 'start training them up right!' McGonagall agreed immediately, so here I am."

Hermione looked at Tonks as if attempting to solve a great mystery, which she probably was, then gasped and hugged the older woman.

"You aren't!" She shrieked.

"I am!" Tonks shrieked back.

Harry looked over to Ron, who looked as confused as Harry felt. Hermione rarely shrieked. This must be good. Then Dawn broke through the clouds of Harry's mind.

"Really?" He asked. "Then you and Remus…?" Tonks nodded.

"Well, Remus and I got married last month…" she began, but was cut off by Hermione

"But how? I mean, since…" She stopped, then quickly apologized. "I didn't mean to…"

"Its all right" Tonks interrupted. "According to wizarding laws, werewolves can't marry. We had a muggle ceremony with a Justice of the Peace. Anyway, Remus wanted to wait a while to start a family, but obviously, I won that little tussle."

Ron's expression cleared "Really? Congratulations!"

Tonks looked as if she was about to thank Ron, but Hermione broke in.

"When are you due? Is anyone throwing you a baby shower yet? What did Remus say when you told him? Was he happy?" Tonks laughed and led the excited girl towards the doorway.

"I think they boys would appreciate it if we kept the girlie talk confined to another room. Come on, let's go have a cuppa." She said as she led her away.

Harry glanced over at Ron. Ron's shoulders were shaking with suppressed mirth. Ron looked up at him

"Remus sure moves quickly. That randy dog." Harry couldn't help but join in the laughter. Only later did they remember they never did choose classes.

* * *

Harry was nervously waiting with Ron and Hermione in the drawing room at Grimmauld place. He had been forewarned that Mrs. Weasley was planning a small party for his seventeenth birthday. Harry was certain that Ginny would be arriving also. Ron had been curiously silent on that point when telling Harry of the plans for his birthday. A few members of the Order and a nice dinner was all that was planned, fortunately. It had been a long day and Harry wasn't certain he had the energy for anything more. Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a small whoosh from the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley had arrived. She brushed a small amount of soot off her sleeve then rushed over to him, giving him a great hug. 

"Happy Birthday Harry, dear." She began to fuss. Harry found it strangely welcoming. He somewhat enjoyed the motherly attention she never failed to give him. She hugged him tightly and continued "My, you have gotten so thin. You really ought to eat more, dear." Harry was fairly certain that she continued on that vein for quite some time, but he was understandably distracted by the whoosh that announced Ginny's arrival.

He was certain she had grown a bit taller in the time since he had last seen her. And her hair hadn't been quite so long either. The beast in his chest gave a pathetic little whimper, but Harry viciously told it to shut up. She was far better off without him, in much less danger. She would stay at Hogwarts, where she would be safe. Maybe, after he defeated Voldemort, things could be different, but until then, well, it was better not to even think about her. Somehow that was easier said than done.

"Happy Birthday Harry." Ginny said softly, determinedly looking anywhere but at him.

"Thanks Ginny." Harry said to his shoes. Hermione huffed from behind him.

"Come on you two." She said to Ron and Ginny. "There is plenty of work to be done in the kitchen if we want to get dinner on the table before everyone else gets here."

"I'll help too." Harry offered.

"Oh, no you won't, Harry." Mrs. Weasley insisted "It's your birthday and I won't hear of it. But you may come along, sit in the kitchen and visit with us, if you like."

Harry agreed and followed the group downstairs to the kitchen. He still felt a bit awkward. Seeing Ginny again was difficult, but he knew he was doing the right thing for her.

* * *

Lying in bed that night, listening to Ron's soft snores in the bed next to his, Harry thought about the party earlier that evening. It had been nice, really, seeing everyone again. It was the first day he had seen most of his friends since Dumbledore's funeral. His heart gave a little wrench at the thought of the great man. He put on a brave face, but inside he missed Dumbledore terribly. 

The more he had thought about it, the more he realized that Dumbledore had really been like family to him. Who else, besides family, do you love and respect despite their mistakes? Who else can make you so angry you want to punch something, and yet you still forgive them? Dumbledore might not have always done the right thing by him, but he did it out of love for the little boy he had been, not out of any desire to manipulate his life. And with that realization, Harry fell into the first restful sleep he could remember in quite some time. Without realizing it, Harry had found a bit of peace

* * *

_a/n New beta-ed version; thanks to Heather for the speedy beta!_


	2. Old McDonald Was A Wizard

Chapter 2

Old McDonald Was A Wizard (E-I-E-I-O)

Harry was already awake and nearly dressed when a pounding on his door startled him.

"Ron! Harry! Wake up! We are going to be late!" Harry opened the door and found himself facing a very surprised Hermione. "Oh." She said lamely. "You're already up."

Harry nodded, for this seemed the only appropriate response to her obvious statement.

"Where's Ron?" She asked, looking around the room. If Harry didn't know better he would think she looked almost disappointed.

"He's in the shower. He should be done soon. Don't worry Hermione, we won't be late."

Hermione looked relieved and replied "It's just that I promised Mrs. Weasley and Fleur that I would make sure you boys got to the fitting on time.

The entire bridal party, ushers, assorted Weasley family and various hangers-on had appointments at Madam Malkin's for a final fitting. Fleur and Bill's wedding was in a few days and Fleur and Molly were in a tizzy of preparations. Harry was a bit put out that the women didn't trust himself and Ron to manage to arrive on time. When he voiced this slight, Hermione responded by merely raising one eyebrow.

"What?" Harry asked indignantly, entering the hallway. "Ron and I are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves!"

Hermione looked at him sadly and shook her head "Such delusions. Shall I begin listing the many times I have had to cover for you two, or will you just admit defeat now?"

Harry was, thankfully, saved from being forced to admit defeat by the appearance of Ron. Or at least, Harry assumed it was Ron standing behind him. Hermione was staring at a spot just behind Harry's left shoulder. She looked somewhat stunned, and was breathing a bit heavily. Ron came closer, wearing nothing but a towel. He looked at Hermione oddly, then continued on past Harry into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Harry looked from the closed door to Hermione, and something clicked.

"So. You finally figured it out, have you?" He smirked at Hermione.

She shook her head at him. "I've known all along. It's your daft friend in there who can't see it."

"Then I guess its up to you to help him along Hermione.

She looked a bit petrified at the notion, but recovered quickly. "Stop teasing me finish getting dressed." She said firmly. Harry merely continued to smirk at her. "Go on then!" Harry conceded defeat. After all, he knew better than to get into a battle of wills with Hermione. He hadn't ever won against her, why keep trying?

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the trio was ready to depart. Hermione had since lost that mysterious flush in her cheeks, and her breathing rate was back down to normal. They all stood in the drawing room, and with one soft "pop," another loud one, and a small bit of complete silence, they apparated away.

* * *

Seconds later they appeared in Madam Malkin's to find a scene of complete and utter chaos. Weasleys, robes, Delacours and harried shop assistants were scattered about the small store. Numbers were being called out, Fred and George were trying to slip Canary Crèmes to just about anyone foolish enough to trust them, a sulky Gabrielle was sitting in the corner, and above all else, Fleur was sitting smack in the middle of the chaos, on the floor, crying her eyes out. She was wailing something about her dress being "'orrible." Ron and Harry froze in the middle of it all, on stimuli overload. Hermione, of course, swung into action. She summoned the Canary Crème that Fred was trying to give to Fleur's little cousin, picked up a screaming child and handed it to the frantic mother searching for her, and snagged a hassled-looking shop girl. 

"Excuse me, miss" she said politely. The frazzled girl stopped and glanced at Hermione. Hermione took this as permission to continue speaking. "Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, ushers for the Delacour-Weasley wedding, are here for their 10:30 appointment. Shall we wait outside until someone is available to assist them?"

The shop girl nodded gratefully.

Hermione then made her day by adding "And we will take those two with us." She gestured at Fred and George. The shop girl looked like she wanted to kiss Hermione, but contented herself with nodding and moving on.

After much discussion, the twins were finally "persuaded" to come along nicely and wait outside. They passed the time by discussing the WWW (business was booming) and the latest products, a line of trick cosmetics that were guaranteed to make every girl look her worst. There was foundation that gave the appearance of warts and spots, waterproof mascara that would leave tracks down the girl's face as if she had been crying all afternoon, and lipstick that was guaranteed to come off on everything, especially men's dress shirts. They had borrowed the catchphrase directly from a Muggle line of cosmetics "Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's a Wizard's Wheeze"

Nearly forty-five minutes passed before an assistant called them in to be fitted. Most of the crowd had left, leaving only Bill, Fleur, Gabrielle (who was still sulking in the corner), Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Several tape measures began to go about their business, measuring the four boys unaided. The same shop girl who Hermione spoke with earlier was sitting behind the counter, grumbling about needing a headache potion.

The tape measure working on Harry stopped what it was doing and began to flutter mid-air, flashing different numbers. The numbers must have meant something to the shop girl, for she rose and retrieved a garment, handing it to Harry. It resembled a cross between his Hogwarts robes and a Muggle tuxedo. The girl gestured to a curtained off area. Harry took that to mean that he was to try on his robes back there.

Following the unspoken instructions, Harry crossed the room and entered the small cubicle. Kicking off his trainers and removing his clothes, Harry changed as quickly as possible. He exited the cubicle and found himself under the close scrutiny of Fleur, Mrs. Weasley and the shop girl, whose name he soon discovered was Ethel. The twins and Ron had disappeared. Harry assumed they must have received their robes in the short time it had taken Harry to change

"Ethel, I think the hem needs to be taken up a bit." Mrs. Weasley said, fussing with the bottom of Harry's robes. "Other than that, I think they look lovely. Don't you agree, my dear?" She added to Fleur.

"I agree Mrs. Weasley. 'arry looks vehry 'andsome." Fleur added throatily. Fleur and Molly had become quite close since Bill's accident. They were seen to be agreeing about all kinds of things in all kinds of places together. Fleur-the-Fairy-Princess and Molly-the-Ultimate-Mother agreed especially strongly on one thing. The Delacour-Weasley wedding was to be the grandest event in recent memory. Every detail was to be perfect, and these two women had dedicated themselves and their lives to ensuring their success in this endeavor. However, the other three women accompanying them were not as committed.

Ginny, who had been determinedly looking at a rack of robes in the corner ever since Harry entered the store, said nothing.

Gabrielle, who was still sulking in the corner, also said nothing.

For once, the two girls agreed on something.

Meanwhile Hermione, who was neither sulking nor ignoring anyone, simply sat in the corner, devouring the large tome she had brought along as a bit of "light reading."

Bill, who was sitting in the corner, attempting to look terribly interested, did not comment. After all, the women present did not ask for his opinion, and as befitting his role as groom, he did not feel inclined to give it. Bill was proving to be a highly intelligent man, well suited for married life.

Upon the agreement of all the women present (except those who were busy ignoring, sulking or reading) and the unspoken agreement of the lone male, Harry was pronounced perfect and sent back to change.

* * *

Ninety minutes later, the Weasley-Delacour wedding party was finally outfitted. Ron had tried on three different sets of robes before finding one that pleased Mrs. Weasley and Fleur. George had "accidentally" set the sleeve of one pair on fire. Gabrielle was still sulking (Harry still had not ascertained why), and Ginny had yet to say a single word. But the afternoon could be called a success. Molly and Fleur could mark one item off their considerable list, and Hermione had finished her book. All in all, a morning well spent. 

Molly and Fleur still had "a few small errands" to run in Diagon Alley, so the rest of the group, minus Fred and George, was sent to The Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch and to wait on them. Fred and George returned to their shop, while everyone else ambled along towards the pub, hungry and relieved to escape the wedding mania for a bit. Harry, who was walking along next to Bill, was amused to notice the interested glances Bill received from several young ladies along the way.

They arrived at the pub, surprised to note how crowded it was. The group was un-able to sit all together so Ginny, Gabrielle and Bill squeezed in at the bar, while Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together at a very small table. Harry mentioned the looks he'd noticed Bill receiving and was surprised when Hermione laughed.

"Well, after all, without Fleur with him, how are they to know he's engaged."

Ron looked faintly confused "I'd think that…you know with the…" Ron, looking very uncomfortable, pantomimed scratching his face. Hermione merely laughed again.

"Don't be silly Ron. His scars are hardly disfiguring. Bill is still an extremely attractive man. Actually, the scars just make him look rather, well, dashing." Hermione looked slightly embarrassed to be admitting this, while Ron began to look outraged.

"So, you're fancying my brother now, is it?" He spat.

"Don't be ridiculous…" Hermione began, but Harry broke in.

"Oi! Guys! Break it up. Of course Hermione doesn't fancy your brother! He's engaged. Right Hermione?"

"Of course not." She confirmed. "Anyway, you should take it as a kind of a compliment. After all, excepting Fred and George, you and Bill look the most alike out of all your brothers." Hermione seemed to realize what she said half a second too late and began to panic. Fortunately the entrance of their waitress, coming to take their order saved her.

"Oh, great" She babbled "I'll have and order of fish and chips with a butter beer and I think that the boys are ready, aren't you? Do you know what you want or should we have the waitress come back when you are ready?"

Harry silently willed Hermione to breathe as he and Ron gave their orders to the confused waitress. The silence that followed was very awkward until the arrival of Bill, Ginny and Gabrielle broke it. The trio had failed to notice the patrons at the table adjoining theirs had finished and left.

The three newcomers sat down, and the awkwardness diminished somewhat. Well, as much as it could considering that Harry and Ginny were still determined to look anywhere but each other and Hermione seemed unable to look up from her place mat.

Gabrielle, who had finally stopped sulking, filled the silence with her grumbles. As it turned out, she was not going to be allowed to wear pink in the wedding. Apparently it was her best colour, but as Ginny was a redhead, Fleur would not allow pink. She claimed it looked "seemply 'orrible." Gabrielle, however, felt that the gold dress clashed with her silver hair, and this was terribly unfair. All in all, her chattering was worse than the sulking had been.

Sixty awkward minutes later, Fleur and Molly returned, shopping bags in tow (Literally. They had placed a "Follow Me" spell on their bags). The trio departed for Grimmauld Place, after several admonishments not to be late the next day. They had been enlisted to help make the favours to pass out at the reception. With two pops and a silent displacement of air, they were off.

* * *

The next afternoon Harry was sitting in the kitchen of the burrow, along with Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Gabrielle working on wedding favours. The trio planned to spend the night there that evening, as the rehearsal dinner was to be the next day. 

The favours to be were ornate silver picture frames containing Fleur and Bill's engagement photo and engraved with their names and the date of the wedding. Ginny and Gabrielle, unable to do magic, had the easy job of placing the photographs in the frame. Harry, Ron and Hermione, on the other hand, were using "caelio," the engraving spell. Hermione's spell produced a neat even script that flowed attractively across the frame. Ron's engraving tended to be backwards or upside down just as often as it was correct and Harry's were all just a bit crooked. Fortunately Hermione was as skilled in the counter curse as she was in the original spell. Secretly the boys felt that everyone would be far better off if Hermione would just do them all in the first place. Secretly, Hermione agreed.

As they were working, or attempting to work in some cases, Harry remembered something.

"Oh, I just remembered. We never did pick our classes for next term. McGonagall wanted to know our choices soon."

Ginny stiffened slightly in her chair while Ron simply looked stunned. "Hermione? Forget about classes? I never thought I would see the day." Hermione merely sniffed in response.

Crookshanks, who was staying at the Burrow until term started, made a point of snubbing Ron, then, feeling his point had been made, left, presumably in search of gnomes.

After much deliberation and debate, their classes were decided. They would all be taking Transfiguration and Defense Against Dark Arts. Hermione refused adamantly to give up either Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, so she would be taking both. Harry wanted to take Charms, so he was signing up for that. Ron felt that they should try to spread themselves out a bit, kind of a "Hey! Look at me! I'm at Hogwarts! Not Searching for a way to defeat Voldemort! No Sirree" as he put it. Therefore, Ron was going to take Herbology.

If Ginny wondered why they were taking so few classes this next term, she did not question it.

If Gabrielle cared one lick about their classes, she did not mention it.

At long last, the favours were finished. Harry had finally, after what felt like hundreds of mistakes, gotten his engraving _almost_ straight and Ron was starting to get more letters facing the right way than not. They boxed up their efforts quickly and headed up to their respective bedrooms, as it was quite late.

* * *

Harry took another sip of his wine after yet another Weasley made yet another toast. The world was starting to get a bit spinny, but it would be rude for him not to keep drinking if they were going to keep toasting! 

The rehearsal hadn't been as bad as he expected. For him anyway. Being just an usher meant that he had few duties the next day. Ginny on the other hand had looked miserable. Fleur's mother, Bianca, and Mrs. Weasley had made her walk down the aisle at least half a dozen times, until she got it "right." Harry couldn't see any difference between the first time she walked and the last, but the women were finally happy. Then Ginny had been forced to stand at attention, holding a fake bouquet of flowers in extremely high heels for the better part of two hours.

Fortunately Harry had been sitting in the audience with Ron and Hermione for that entire time. Fortunate for two reasons: One, that he had been under the radar of the obsessive perfectionist women running this show, and two, that he could observe Ginny surreptitiously. She had looked beautiful even when grumpy. Harry tried to keep his thoughts far from her and their short time together, but he failed miserably. Even so, not a bad way to wile away the afternoon.

The rehearsal dinner, on the other hand, was the greatest thing ever invented, in Harry's opinion. The food was great, and it was a perfect opportunity for the friends and family of Fleur and Bill to basically just embarrass the hell out of them. Their family told embarrassing tales of the couple's childhood, disguised as "toasts" and after each one, everyone got to drink. Harry thought this was all a great idea. By the time deserts came, Harry was sloshed and happy, with a big plateful of treacle tart. He had never felt better.

* * *

He had never felt worse. Harry woke up the next morning with a dead rodent in his mouth. He tried to spit it out, then realized it was not a rodent, but his tongue. The action of attempting to spit caused his head to split in half and waves of nausea to roll through his stomach. He opened his eyes and decided that was a Very Bad Idea. Another wave of nausea attacked and he found himself dashing to the toilet. He made it just in time. 

The cold tile of the bathroom floor felt strangely comforting. Harry decided that this was a good place to stay for a while. Until some more nausea hit, and he was forced to move again.

After some time, and a few more offerings to the porcelain gods, Harry felt better enough to venture downstairs. He immediately regretted it. The smell of scrambled eggs almost did him in, but he managed to win that battle. The real problem was the light. Sunlight streamed through the windows in the kitchen and Harry felt like he was going to die.

"Is it always this bright in the morning?" He mumbled.

Ron looked dumbly at him. He looked about as good as Harry felt.

Hermione clucked her tongue at him.

"Thank heavens we covered this in Transfiguration last term." She said, waving her wand. Where there was nothing, appeared a paper bag and two paper cups. The boys looked at her questioningly.

"McDonalds." Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Muggle fast food. Just eat it, you will feel much better afterwards."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and reached for the food.

Harry opened his bag and looked at Hermione. "How are chips going to make me feel better?" He wanted to know.

Hermione sighed "Just trust me, ok?"

Harry ate a few chips, and did, in fact, begin to feel better. A few slurps of his coke later and he was convinced that this McDonald guy must really be a wizard.

"Hey Hermione," Ron said through a mouthful of chips "What book did you read this in? This is better than a hangover potion!"

Hermione turned red and refused to answer. Ron pressed repeatedly for an answer, and each time she seemed to get a bit more flustered. Finally Harry took pity and changed the subject.

"So shouldn't we be getting dressed? The guests are supposed to start arriving at four. I'm sure your mum and Mrs. Delacour are going to have plenty for us to do before then."

The trio headed up the stairs to get dressed for the day. As Hermione headed into Ginny's room, she shot Harry what was unmistakably a grateful look.

"So…" Ron began "How do you think Hermione knew about that Muggle stuff?"

"Well," Harry replied "I hear they have some pretty crazy parties at Durmstrang."

He dashed up the stairs and into Ron's room before Ron managed to work out exactly what Harry was implying.

* * *

_a/n "i love emma watson" thanks for your review (; im not sure exactly what the "it" is you were asking about, but maybe this chapter answers your question? thanks for reading though!_


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